nine lives to live
by chokecherries
Summary: He tastes like death, but she can't get enough.—natsu/lucy
1. Chapter 1

**notes: **sorry for my lack of inactivity. here's a one-shot for your trouble. welcome to my lovely train wreck.

**thoughts: **you ask me where i come up with this stuff. i tell you i don't know.

**disclaimer: **own nothing

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_you are the avalanche, _

_one world away, _

_my make believing_

_while i'm wide awake. _

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Lucy Heartfilia lies awake, staring at her ceiling. It's late—sometime past midnight—and it is raining. If she were feeling poetic, she might say that the sky was pouring out all of its sorrows onto the sleeping city below. Or maybe it's a lullaby for someone she doesn't know. What she does know, is that it's late and it is raining.

And her bedroom window is open.

There's a cool breeze drifting through, rustling the sheer curtains hanging in the window and leaving chilly kisses on her bare skin. The cool air smells like rain—something full of life and refreshing, yet full of sadness at the same time—and she breathes it in and soaks it up.

She closes her eyes, long lashes brush against her cheeks, and wishes for sleep. But there's something inside of her, and it whispers into her heart. _Don't sleep, just stay awake. _

So she counts sheep in her head, and watches as they jump over imaginary white picket fences where the grass is greener, and the sky is blue, blue, blue. She only makes it to twenty-two before her windows rattle with a particularly strong gust of wind.

It's quiet, and she waits a few minutes before she opens her eyes.

And when she does, there's a body standing over her bed.

"It's kind of creepy when you do that Natsu, I have to admit."

Lucy feels something wet and warm hit her face, and she sits up.

"What—," her eyes widen and she inhales sharply, "you're bleeding!"

She slides out of bed and hurries to snatch the medical supplies she keeps on hand, as well as some water and towels. When she returns to her room, there's a leather jacket tossed aside, and a bloody gray t-shirt on her floor.

She deposits her armload onto the bed and presses closer to the wounded man bleeding all over her comforter. There's a ridiculously large gash in his side, and she cringes. It's serrated and jagged and looks all kinds of painful, but the owner of the wound isn't complaining at all.

Lucy sighs and pours rubbing alcohol over some gauze. "This is going to sting, but I can almost guarantee you that it isn't going to hurt as much as when you got this."

The man on her bed doesn't even flinch as she presses the cold, sterilized cloth to his side. She works in silence, cleaning and threading a needle to sew up the new horizontal hole in his side. He flinches slightly when she sticks the needle into his tender skin, but that is the only movement she gets from him.

After she's finished, the blonde wipes her bloody hands on a fluffy white towel and tosses it next to his jacket.

"I knew that you were out there tonight." she speaks up, russet eyes locking with his own burning onyx orbs. "I could feel it. I think I've developed a sixth sense that alerts me when you're out working."

Natsu reaches out and grabs her wrist before pulling her forward. He leans down and presses his lips to hers, and she closes her eyes to take it all in. He winds his bloody fingers through her hair and she wraps her arms around his neck. The kiss lasts until Lucy's lungs burn and she has to pull away for air.

It's cool and it burns, contrasting his touch and taste, and she gulps down the misty oxygen.

"We make a horrible couple, you know." she informs him.

Natsu ghosts his fingers over the bare skin of her back, and his voice is deep and raspy. "Why is that?"

"Because," Lucy plays with some of his wild salmon locks, "I'm just a girl who likes to sit and write in coffee shops, and you're a killer for hire." her lips twist upward, into a bitter smile. "The world would tear us apart and eat us alive."

He encircles his arms around her and draws her to his chest. They sit there, like that, for what seems like infinity in a moment. The rain beats against the metal fire escape outside her open window, and thunder rolls in the distance.

Their little forever, or that's what Lucy likes to think.

She smiles into his shoulder. "How did we even become friends, anyway?"

"You spilled coffee on me."

Her eyes sparkle as she laughs. "Oh yeah—right. What kind of guy like you buys coffee at small, out-of-the-way shops like that anyway?"

Natsu closes his eyes. "The kind that wants to stay as far away from people as possible, usually."

Lucy waits for a heartbeat before speaking.

"I saw something—on the news the other night. Was that you?"

His mouth twists into a scowl. "No."

She nods. "I didn't think so."

He looks at her carefully, the girl who is all smiles, sunshine, and bubbly laughter. She is beautiful, uncorrupted, innocent, and she has never killed more than a fly or the occasional spider in her life. She is everything he doesn't deserve, shouldn't have, and shouldn't touch.

Because girls like her are like china dolls. Once broken they are never quite the same again, and people like him only destroy what they touch. It's either one way or another, and death always follows him wherever he goes.

She is just a glimpse into another world—a world he _might _have had. A world of normal jobs, falling in love and getting married, having children and buying a house, never looking over your shoulder or killing for hire. A world unstained, untouched, unbroken.

He is not. Not innocent, not free of his demons, not fit for that world because he is broken, battered, bloody, and so very stained. His world is one of violence, of surviving and killing. And pretty china dolls like her simply do not belong in a world like that.

But he loves her, and she loves him, and the lines blur.

He is black and she is white, but together they are gray.

"I'll never hate you." Lucy promises, smiling at him.

Natsu isn't able to swallow the lump in his throat and speak, so he kisses her instead.

He tastes like death and everything she is not, but she can't get enough.

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**end notes: **because i had this idea and _what if? _it sounded better in my head. complete for now, but i can write more.


	2. Chapter 2

**notes: **because a lot of you said you wanted me to start from the beginning if i made this into an ongoing thing, so. that i did. **  
****dedication:** to fictional characters and that thing i should actually be doing right now but i'm not.

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_{cause i remember that i like you, no matter what i found}_

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**i. **

Lucy Heartfilia sighs and blows some of her blonde fringe out of her eyes.

It's a busy day at Mirajane's—the coffee shop she is currently employed at—and the place is bustling with customers and baristas alike. She has a five minute break, and she's taking full advantage of it. Especially since she's eleven and she's been going nonstop since seven this morning.

There's usually a break in consumer traffic from eleven-fifteen to three, and for that she is glad. Mirajane's is pretty much the Holy Grail when it comes to coffee shops around Magnolia, and the blonde could swear that at least more than half of the students attending Magnolia University stop by during the day.

On the bright side, she makes some amazing tips.

She wipes some beads of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and glances over the patrons in the shop. Truthfully, this isn't even her preferred line of work. She went to college all for the sake of getting what she needed to become a writer. But alas, two months ago—after graduation—she was up the river in student loans and debt and barely scraping by. Her rent was three weeks late and her tyrant of a landlady was threatening to literally throw her out of her beloved cottage and she had no idea what to do.

That's where Mirajane comes in.

Lucy had gone to school with the woman's younger sister, and she'd quickly become friends with the two. The blonde had spent her fair share of time writing papers and buying caramel macchiatos during her four years of college as well, and one day she had shared her plight with Mira.

The next day she'd called with a job offer and thus how Lucy had gotten to where she is today.

A struggling author trying to make it in the real world, working at a coffee shop during the day and writing by night.

She couldn't really complain though. It wasn't like her life was a complete trainwreck. She has friends—they're like a second family, to replace her crappy and dead one—she has money, and she has a nice place to live.

"Hey Lucy, time to switch, okay?"

The blonde snaps out of her thoughts and smiles at Kianna. "Sure, sorry. You've been working hard today too, I wouldn't want to leave all the caffeine-craving customers to you."

Her coworker laughs and slides past her to get a cup of water. Lucy smooths out her apron, tightens her ponytail, and takes a deep breath before stepping back up to the machines lined up on the counter. She barely gets there before Cana is calling out more orders for her.

Lucy can't help but smile as she flips the nozzle for decaf.

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"You sure you can handle the shop by yourself?" Cana questions, brow raised heavenward and bag slung over her shoulder.

Kianna hangs her apron on her assigned hook and turns to look at the blonde. "Yeah Lucy. You'll be alright?"

The barista rolls her eyes and nods. "_Yes. _Seriously guys, I'll be fine. I've done it before, remember? Jeez, is this the kind of faith you have in your friends?" she waves her hands in a shooing motion. "Now, go on you two. Kianna, you have a date with Erik, and Cana has a date with a bottle of red wine."

Her brunette friend scoffs. "Yeah, yeah. We just worry for you, Lucy."

"Well you shouldn't. I'll be okay. If anyone tries to rob Mira's, I'll give 'em the worst kick between the knees they've ever received. Then I'll call the police. Yes."

Cana snorts and grabs her coat. "Whatever you say, blondie. Alright Kianna, let's ditch this place. Lucy's right—I got a bottle of something special at home, and maybe someone to share it with if he comes. I don't wanna be late to my own party. Night Lucy!"

"Goodnight Lucy!"

The blonde watches her friends leave, and waves them off. "See you tomorrow guys!"

She leans back against the counter and makes a sweep of the room. Only three or four people still left tonight, but that's the way it usually is. The weather is cold for November, and it looks like a few students are still trying to get some studying in.

There was also the fact that Lucy made the best hot chocolate in a hundred mile radius of Magnolia, and that it was a definite cure for the chill on cold days.

She stretches and yawns, thankful for the very effective heating system Mirajane had had installed. It almost made her not want to go outside, because she didn't own a car and had to take the train home after work.

Her eyes stray over to the order sheet Cana had left lying on the counter, and she picks it up. She's idly flipping through it and mentally counting all the orders of the day—twenty-five, sixty-two, one hundred and four—when the bell above the door dings, and she's hit with a sudden onslaught of freezing air.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and goosebumps rise on her arms as she lowers the notepad and the sound of footsteps stops at the counter. She glances up through thick lashes, and her breath hitches in her throat.

And okay, maybe her heart also skips a couple beats, but.

Standing on the customer side of the counter is the most gorgeous man she's ever seen in all her life. He's tall—at least taller than her—with windswept rose hair and dark eyes. He's strangely tan for the early days of winter, as summer has long since passed, and he's dressed like some kind of bad boy model. Black leather jacket, gray v-neck t-shirt, black jeans, and a white scarf wrapped almost carelessly around his neck.

She thinks she can just barely see the edges of a rigid scar on his neck peeking out from under it.

She's also pretty sure she can see some amazing biceps hidden by his jacket, and a six-pack that may or may not be obscured by his shirt.

But it's not that obscured.

And okay she's probably been staring for a while now—eyes _away Lucy, eyes freaking away_. Her cheeks feel like they're on fire, and she quickly tears her chocolate orbs away from this possibly majestic being of a man.

"Uhm, erm, c-can I help you?"

"Coffee, black. I'll be at the table in the corner."

And his _voice, _sweet mother of literature.

Lucy's brain temporarily fries and she struggles to remember how much exactly a black coffee costs. It's one of their more simple drinks—like _really _simple—but she just can't think right now.

"T…t-that'll be ten jewels, sir."

She's pretty sure that fifteen seconds is twelve seconds too long to come to that conclusion without using the register.

He wordlessly hands over the money, and walks off towards his claimed table, leaving her speechless and chewing nervously on her lower lip.

It takes her about nine seconds to snap out of her trance and about the same amount of time to fill the order. Seriously, it's not a hard process. The coffee is already made, and all she has to do is pour the steaming liquid into a cup and viola—one black coffee for the hot guy in the leather jacket.

She blushes and mentally berates herself for using the term 'hot' for a guy.

Quietly clearing her throat, she slips out from behind the counter and makes her way over to his table, coffee in hand. Most of her thoughts are already preoccupied with the patron whose order she's carrying, so she doesn't notice the foot stuck out with the intent to trip her as she walks by another table.

The blonde doesn't realize what's happening until it's too late—she's falling and the coffee in her hands is literally flying and she is not looking forward to spending some quality time with the tile floor, no matter how nice it looks. She barely catches herself, her palms slamming against the cool and hard floor with an audible '_smack_', and a breathless cough leaving her lips.

Then she hears something dripping—_splattering_—against the floor, and she looks up in horror, eyes wide and terrified.

Which is how her worst fears are confirmed—she's just spilled coffee all over the handsome guy who'd previously been occupying her thoughts. _His own coffee. _

She feels her ears and cheeks burn with an intense fury, like that of a thousand suns, and the stinging tears gathering in her eyes.

"…I-I…"

The blonde is cut off by howling laughter, and her attention is drawn to the guy who'd tripped her. A college kid, probably looking for a little mischief which he found by tripping up a barista carrying a scalding cup of fresh coffee.

She's too mortified to even care.

But the guy she'd spilled it on isn't.

Lucy doesn't think she's ever seen someone move so fast or gracefully in all her life. One minute, nameless guy covered in coffee is standing before her, and the next he has no-longer-laughing college kid by his collar and his giving him the scariest glare she's ever seen.

"_Get. Out." _

He drops the now trembling student, who quickly gathers his books and papers before high-tailing it for the glass door. Lucy lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, and watches as the other patrons return to their own business.

She's surprised when a calloused hand appears in her limited line of vision, and looks up to see nameless coffee-drenched guy holding it out to her. The blonde blinks, before cautiously placing her much smaller hand in his. He pulls her up with ease, and she fidgets with her apron, not meeting his eye.

"U-um, I…thank you. For…y'know…_that_. A-and, I'm really sorry about…spilling your coffee on you. You probably hate me now, right?"

Lucy looks up, bottom lip kind of trembling, and it startled to see an amused look on the guy's face.

"Hate you? Please, like that was _your _fault."

She blinks, not really knowing what to make of that.

He grins, wide and bright, and ruffles her hair. "Don't worry about it. Just…do me a favor, though."

The blonde doesn't know what to say, so she just nods."

"Smile. You look better when you smile."

And then he's gone, brushing past her and towards the door. It opens and closes, and he disappears into the night, leaving her speechless once more.

Slowly though, a smile tugs at the corners of her lips, and she lets it.


End file.
